


Miracle and Mystery

by kellsbells



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Black Mirror - Freeform, F/F, San Junipering and Wells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-28 20:31:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8461951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellsbells/pseuds/kellsbells
Summary: Myka Bering visits San Junipero, the party town, trying to live a little. She is shy and finds it awkward and slightly boring, until Helena Wells bursts her way into Myka's life. What is it about the woman that makes Myka's heart thump, and why doesn't she want to stay in San Junipero when everyone else is clamouring to go there? An AU based on the San Junipero episode of Black Mirror. I will confess I have only ever watched one episode of Black Mirror and this is it, but it is well worth a watch. Well done to the lovely Abolynn and Sistersin7 for running this challenge.





	1. Chapter 1

Myka Bering hadn’t been dancing for years. She wasn’t sure how many, and she didn’t care to examine the thought any further. She asked the bartender in the club – the Warehouse was its name - for a soda, enjoying the crispness of the bubbles against her tongue and the sweetness of the drink. It had been a long time since she’d been able to drink a soda without her teeth aching, either.

 

She sat in a quiet corner, watching the people dance to music she hadn’t come across in what felt like a century. It was… Madonna, right? Where’s the Party, that was it. She hadn’t liked the song when she first heard it, but this was a party town, and everyone was loving it, judging by the energetic dancing. She adjusted her glasses, sucking a little more soda through the straw, and saw a girl she’d never seen before. Well, not a girl, exactly. A woman, in her early twenties. Huge hoop earrings, hair back-combed and hair-sprayed to within an inch of its life. She had black hair and eyes that were almost as dark, but they sparkled so brightly that they seemed to be lit from within. She was wearing a barely-there top, a boob-tube, Myka thought distantly, and denim shorts, with all of the cheap plastic jewellery that one might expect from a person who would dance to Madonna in such a carefree manner. She was breathtakingly beautiful, her happiness clear for everyone to see. Myka was here precisely so she could find that sort of happiness, and her arm went up of its own volition, her fingers waving at the woman, who smirked at her before resuming her dancing with a crowd of dancers, all of whom seemed to be trying to win her attention. Myka let her hand drop back to her lap – it was never going to be her, was it, who this woman chose to notice? She was far too beautiful, and Myka far too plain and boring, and that was just that. She wandered aimlessly into a corner where she talked to a handsome but shy young man called Steve for a while, both playing on the arcade games before she heard a woman’s accented voice say, “Oh, there she is.”

 

Myka turned to find the woman from before heading towards her, a man being dragged along in her wake simply because he wouldn’t let go of her arm, it appeared. Myka raised an eyebrow in confusion.

 

“Darling, where did you get to? I have been trying to find you. This is James, you remember I told you about him?”

 

Myka was feeling pretty dense, but the look that the man was giving this woman was upsetting her, for some reason. Predatory and dark, he was regarding the woman as if he owned her. And the woman had a pleading look in her eye. Myka smiled, almost automatically, and took the woman’s hand.

 

“Sorry, sweetie. I was talking to Steve, here, and I kind of lost track of time,” she said, with an apologetic smile.

 

“You see, James? I told you I was here with a friend. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have to go and talk,” the woman said, and the man frowned.

 

“I don’t see what the problem is, Helena,” he said, his voice as accented as hers. Myka tasted the word on her tongue. It suited this woman. “Surely you can talk to your friend anytime. We have limited time here, you know that,” he said, and he was snapping, now. Helena took Myka’s arm, pulling her close, and Myka tightened her hold unconsciously.

 

“She’s dying, James. We have very little time left,” Helena said, and Myka nodded mutely when James looked at her suspiciously, wishing she had a Twizzler or two with which to occupy her hands.

 

“Fine,” he snapped, before stalking off and throwing them a disgusted look over his shoulder. Myka turned to Helena with a raised eyebrow, and Helena gave her an apologetic grimace.

 

“I am sorry, darling. He just wouldn’t leave me alone and you seemed like the sort who might assist me to get away,” she said, and Myka just nodded. She _was_ that sort; boring, dependable. The woman clearly wouldn’t be seeking her out for any other reason.

 

“So you’re not dying then?” came a voice from behind them. Myka had forgotten about Steve, and she turned to smile at him.

 

“Not just yet,” she said, with a half-smile, and he smiled back impishly. He was a sweet guy.

 

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” he said, indicating the arcade games with a wink, and Helena smiled at him before dragging Myka along with her to the bar.

 

“What would you like to drink?” she asked, and Myka just stared at her curiously. “Have I got something on my face?” Helena asked, touching her cheeks gently.

 

“No,” Myka said, shaking her head, her cascade of curls tumbling around her face, the pink plastic hairband unequal to the task of containing it. “I just thought you’d leave now that I’ve rescued you,” she said, her head tilting to one side.

 

“Why on earth would I do that?” Helena asked, sounding amused.

 

“Well, I got that guy to leave you alone, so you don’t need me now,” Myka said logically.

 

“Well, I suppose not, but I thought I should at least buy you a drink to express my gratitude, darling,” Helena said, and Myka shrugged.

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

“I know,” Helena said, smiling again, this time looking a little puzzled. She ordered them both Jack and Cokes, and Myka tasted hers with a wince. She’d never been a fan of hard liquor, sticking mainly to beer. But this was the party town, so why not? Helena led her to a booth where they sat quietly for a few minutes, Myka drinking and Helena regarding her curiously.

 

“So, what’s your name, darling?” Helena asked, after the silence grew thick.

 

“Myka. Myka Martino,” she said, and immediately corrected herself. “Myka Bering, I mean.”

 

Helena’s eyebrow raised, but she said nothing about Myka’s correction.

 

“Hello, then, Myka Bering. I am Helena Wells. How are you enjoying your stay in this party town?” she asked, with a sly smirk, and Myka shrugged. So far it was a little dull, saving the woman opposite her. Myka wasn’t really into dancing, and she wasn’t really a drinker.

 

“I think you need to loosen up, darling,” Helena said, and she pulled Myka to her feet, dragging her to the dance floor, which was now jumping to the beat of “Heaven is a place on earth,” by Belinda Carlisle. It had been a long time since Myka had heard that song, either, and she had never really thought of it as a song a person could dance to, but Helena made it look easy, and she pulled Myka around with her, laughing and smiling so infectiously that Myka couldn’t help but smile back and attempt to dance, no matter how awkward she felt with her long giraffe legs and neck. She was beginning to enjoy herself, despite her misgivings, before she realised that some of the people in the crowd of dancers were watching them – her and Helena – because they were two women dancing. She tried to ignore them but after a moment she couldn’t.

 

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, pushing her way through the crowd and running outside, hearing the beat of the music from inside the club and feeling the rain pour down on her. She had been stupid to think she could do this, could just come to San Junipero and forget everything she was, everything that was holding her back.

 

“You ran out on me, Myka Bering,” a voice said softly next to her, and she jumped. She hadn’t even noticed Helena joining her. She took off her jacket, holding it over them both to shield them a little from the rain.

 

“I’m sorry. The people – they were looking at us. I couldn’t…”

 

“So what if they were looking at us, Myka Bering? We are beautiful women, dancing in a club in San Junipero, the world at our feet. Why wouldn’t they look?” she asked, and her eyes were dark and challenging.

 

“I didn’t want them to think that I was… you know…” Myka trailed off again.

 

“Gay? Do you really think anyone cares about that, here?” Helen asked, but she said it gently, as if she didn’t want to scare Myka off.

 

“I don’t know. But I… that’s not who I am,” Myka said, her jaw tight.

 

Helena laughed quietly, bumping her shoulder against Myka’s.

 

“You can be whoever you want to be, here,” she said, in a low murmur, and Myka turned her head to find that Helena was close. So close. Too close. Her breath caught in her throat and then Helena was kissing her, her kisses as passionate and alive as her dancing. She was beautiful and Myka’s heart was thumping, and she realised that her face was wet from the rain because she’d dropped her jacket and wrapped her arms around Helena, pulling her closer. She leapt back, almost falling off the crate she was sitting on, and she stuttered something about being sorry before turning and running away, her long legs leaving the Warehouse and Helena Wells far behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myka meets Helena again, and lets herself take what she wants

The following week Myka was in the same corner by the arcade games, playing with Steve once again. She’d forgotten how much fun these games were. Steve was joined after a while by a very attractive young man called Liam, and Myka was amused to see the blush lighting up Steve’s cheeks as Liam flirted with him. It was really sweet, young love in bloom. She wandered off after she realised they had forgotten she was there, and spoke for a while to a young woman called Abigail, who was trying to get her to come along to the club they called ‘The Dark Vault’, the place where your darkest dreams could come true, according to the hype. Myka just shook her head; if she couldn’t handle the Warehouse, which was really pretty tame, there was no way she could handle the Dark Vault. Abigail pouted, but she eventually found someone else to go with her and Myka was once again alone, watching the dancers once again, this time dancing to Queen. It made her shiver. Every time she heard this song, she thought of Sam. “Who wants to live forever?” indeed. Every time they talked about San Junipero, he would smile and laugh it off, and sing that song, dancing her around their living room. That was why she was here alone, without Sam. God knows how much time she would have to spend here, alone, before…

 

“Good evening, darling,” a soft voice purred into her ear. It was a British voice, but not the one she’d been secretly hoping to hear.

 

“Hello. James, was it?” she asked, and turned to greet the man who’d been harassing Helena the previous week.

 

“Well remembered. You have a great memory, considering that you’re dying and all,” he said, sarcastically.

 

“We’re all dead or dying, you know that,” Myka said, sucking on her straw. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

 

“Have you seen her?” he asked, eventually.

 

“No,” Myka said, shrugging. She didn’t need to know which ‘she’ he meant. There was only one woman they had in common, and that was Helena Wells.

 

“I need to find her,” he said, and he sounded almost desperate.

 

“I can’t help you there,” she said, and she shrugged again. She wanted to see Helena too, but this guy was all kinds of crazy about it.

 

He grabbed her wrist, holding it much too tightly to be comfortable. She didn’t struggle; he couldn’t hurt her unless she wanted to be hurt. So she just looked at him coolly.

 

“I told you, I don’t know where she is,” she repeated, and he glared at her for a moment before letting go and stalking away. She breathed out and turned back to the dance floor, watching the dancers throw themselves around. Was it just her, or had they looked this desperate last week? Maybe she was in the wrong place, or at the wrong time. None of it appealed to her, except for Helena. She had made it interesting, but she was the one thing that Myka couldn’t have. Myka turned around to leave and walked straight into Helena, who was carrying two drinks. She narrowly avoided spilling the drinks before offering one to Myka with a sly smile.

 

“I thought I might find you here,” she said, and Myka lifted an eyebrow. “I mean here, watching, and not joining in,” Helena explained, and Myka shrugged, her cheeks colouring slightly.

 

“I don’t know if this is really my scene,” she said, and Helena raised an eyebrow.

 

“Really? Then what is?” she asked, and Myka was lost for words, suddenly. She didn’t know what she enjoyed. What kind of sadness was that? A life spent looking after everyone else, to the point where she didn’t even know what she enjoyed? She looked at Helena and something reckless took hold of her. This was supposed to be a party town, and she wasn’t partying. She deserved a little fun, didn’t she? Helena must have sensed something change in her, because she leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

 

“Come with me?”

 

Myka drained her drink in two swallows and allowed herself to be pulled along, out of the bar and down a side street into a jeep that presumably belonged to Helena – not that those sorts of things really mattered, here. Helena drove her out of the town and down to the sea, the smell of the salt and sand engraining itself in her nostrils. It was beautiful, and Helena was beautiful, and when they got to the beautiful house by the sea where Helena lived, it was Myka who was undressing the other woman, Myka who was pulling at clothes when they didn’t come off quickly enough to please her, Myka who was biting marks into Helena’s flesh. For someone who had decided she couldn’t have this not one hour ago, she was certainly diving in with a vengeance. When they eventually finished, and Helena wrapped herself up in Myka’s arms, Myka felt profoundly shaken, and she could see her feelings mirrored in Helena’s eyes. This was not why she had come here, and Helena presumably hadn’t either. The clock struck 12, and the world went black.

 

The next week, Myka was leaning against a support column watching the dancers in almost the same position she had been in the week before. But Helena didn’t appear. She waited and waited, but there was no sign of her. She managed to avoid a pissed-off looking James, who also appeared to be looking for Helena, but still the woman didn’t appear.

 

Myka went to the bar. She’d seen Helena speak to the barman a few times, so she figured maybe he might know where to find her.

 

“Excuse me,” she said, and the barman leaned over to listen. “Have you seen Helena tonight? A little shorter than me, black hair, big earrings? Really pretty?”

 

Recognition dawned in his eyes.

 

“She sometimes goes to the Dark Vault. You might want to try her there.”

 

Myka nodded and left the club, following the signs on foot to the Dark Vault. It was out in the middle of nowhere, and looked like a horror story waiting to happen. When she walked in the door, she saw people in leather gear everywhere – gimp masks, people chained to the ceiling, people in hanging cages covered in barbed wire, people in the corner actually fucking one another in public. Myka blushed immediately and looked away, but kept her eyes peeled for Helena. There was no sign of her, and Myka was on the verge of leaving when she saw one of the dancers who’d been trying to get Helena to notice him the week before.  A tall, dark man with a long nose.

 

“Excuse me,” she said politely, and he turned to look at her with a smirk on his face as he took in her clothes and innocent demeanour. He was dressed like a gay pirate, with leather eyepatch and assless chaps. She tried not to look at anything she didn’t want burned into her retinae for life.

 

“I saw you last week with Helena,” she said, and then described her. The man’s eyes widened a little before checking her out once again, a slow once-over, as if reconsidering her charms now that he knew she’d been with Helena.

 

“Have you tried different times?” he asked. She shrugged. “She likes to jump around. You might have trouble finding her.”

 

That was an understatement. Myka went to 1980 and 1996 before running out of time. Lights out at midnight. She couldn’t understand why Helena was hiding from her. They’d shared something amazing. She wasn’t saying that Helena owed her anything, of course she didn’t. But she could at least have talked to her.

 

The next week Myka dressed carefully, straightening her hair and picking out stylish-for-the-time glasses and a shirt with tight jeans and boots before going to 2002. She found Helena there, in the middle of the arcade playing Dance Dance Revolution. Of course. Myka watched her play for a moment and then Helena caught her eye, stiffening up and trying to walk away.

 

“Helena, what’s wrong with you?” Myka asked, and Helena pushed past her, fleeing for the bathrooms. Myka followed her. Helena rounded on her when they entered the empty bathroom, her eyes flashing angrily.

 

“I don’t owe you anything, Myka, just because we slept together. I’m just here to have fun!” she said, almost snarling.

 

“I know you don’t, Helena, but I thought we could at least talk…” Myka said, confused and hurt and angry.

 

“I don’t owe you talking, Myka. I want to have a good time, that’s all. Now leave me alone.”

 

And with that, she was gone, fled, and Myka was alone in a bathroom in 2002 wondering what the hell she’d done wrong. She looked at herself in the mirror, her jaw tight and her eyes glistening, and she punched the glass as hard as she could, shattering it into a million pieces. She stood looking at her uninjured hand in the dim light of the bathroom for what felt like hours, before turning to follow Helena.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena apologises and tells Myka why she ran away. Myka makes a hasty decision.

* * *

Myka couldn’t find Helena, so she made her way onto the roof of the club, watching as the action spilled outside onto the street, people yelling, dancing, fighting. It was life in all of its glory, all of its ugliness, and she wanted to feel something when she saw it. She wanted to be excited by something – that’s why she’d decided to come here, after all. But the only thing – the only person – who’d made her feel a thing had been Helena. And Helena clearly didn’t want anything to do with her.

 

It was just as that thought crossed her mind that she felt, rather than heard, someone sit next to her.

 

“How many of them do you think are dead?” she asked, and Helena shrugged.

 

“Eighty, eighty-five percent?” she said, and Myka shook her head. It was unbelievable, when you thought about it. She tried not to.

 

“I’m sorry,” Helena said, after a moment’s silence. Myka turned her head to look at Helena, her full lips, her beautiful skin, her dark eyes. She was gorgeous, and she’d hurt Myka more than she knew she was even able to be hurt. She’d gone through her whole life content but never truly happy, and here was this incredible woman, a woman who’d given her a taste of happiness only to take it away immediately.

 

“What for?” Myka asked, dully, and Helena winced.

 

“I… I didn’t want to feel anything, Myka. I didn’t want to come here, and then when they did it anyway, I just… I decided to have fun, and then to go. To follow her. And that was my plan, until you. You just… you screwed it all up, Myka Bering, by making me feel this,” Helena said, and Myka looked at her with dawning wonder.

 

“You feel this too?” she asked, and Helena answered her with a kiss. Then they were at Helena’s beach house again, and they made love until not long before midnight. That was when Helena told her.

 

“I’m getting married. Next weekend. He’s a lovely man, William. Just wants to do right by me. He’ll marry me, and then they can switch off the machines and I can follow her. Finally.”

 

Myka stared at her. Helena couldn’t go, not now. Not now they’d felt this.

 

“You don’t want to stay here? In San Junipero?”

 

Helena shook her head, biting her lip, her eyes filling.

  
“Tell me why,” Myka demanded, and so Helena did.

 

“I was married, once. He was a boring bloke, I suppose, but steady, and my family approved of him. But he left me rather suddenly to be with someone else, and it was about a month later that I realised that I was pregnant. My daughter was born in the usual way, and everything was fine, except for my parents, who were rather old-fashioned, and wanted me to marry again so that she would have a mother and a father,” Helena said, wiping away tears. Myka kissed her knuckles gently, eyes intent on hers.

 

“She grew up, and she was the most beautiful child, so intelligent and so generous and I loved her beyond reason, Myka. She was the good that had come from something indifferent, the relationship I had with her father. She was amazing. She went to university and she graduated as a medical doctor – it had been her lifelong dream – but on the way home from the graduation night party, her cab was hit by a drunk driver. She was killed instantly – her and three of her friends. I went quite mad for a while, and my parents sent me away to a hospital for those who were of less than sound mind, I suppose. I don’t remember any of that bit, really. But eventually they weaned me off the drugs and I was sent out into the world. I tried to kill myself the very first night. I got drunk and took a handful of pills and then crashed my car into a wall at high speed. No point in doing things by halves, I suppose,” Helena chuckled darkly.

 

“Then what?” Myka asked, tears leaking from behind her closed eyelids.

 

“I was paralysed, in some sort of coma. My family were horrified. Wouldn’t allow me to be taken off the machines, because they believed suicide was the coward’s way. And so I live, still, unable to move or breathe or even speak unless they come in here and talk to me. William – he’s one of my nurses – he’s agreed to marry me so that I can be taken off the machines against my family’s wishes. It’s past time for me to join my Christina.”

 

Myka stared at Helena. She understood; of course she did. The pain of losing a child must be incomparable. But for Helena to want to follow Christina into oblivion, when she could stay here instead and be happy with Myka? Why would she not choose that?

 

“I… I’m so sorry, Helena. I can’t imagine the pain of losing a child. My children… well, they’re all grow up now. But to lose one of them… I think something in you must feel like you’ve died too. But you’re alive, Helena, and you have a chance, here. With me. Why wouldn’t you want that?” Myka asked, and Helena’s face screwed up as if she was trying really hard not to cry.

 

“It’s not that simple, Myka. No matter what I want. Christina’s alone and I have to go and be with her.”

 

“I know why you would think that, Helena. I know why you would want that. But no-one knows, do they? And here, you can be sure that you’ll live on. You have a second chance at life. Why wouldn’t you take it?” Myka asked, and her face was crumpling now, too. Helena was shaking her head, she was withdrawing, and then the lights went out. Midnight.

 

Myka woke up, feeling her chest tighten in that familiar way, her heart stuttering. It always sucked coming back to real life after San Junipero, after being in a healthy body. After being so _young._ She pulled off the headset and sat up a little, beginning to cough weakly.

 

“Myka, are you okay?” her nurse, Claudia, asked. The young woman had crazy hair, red and purple and green and god only knew what other colours. It looked pretty good though, even Myka had to admit that. She wouldn’t have let any of her kids wear their hair like that, though.

 

“I’m fine, Claud,” Myka said, with a weak smile. They both knew she wasn’t fine; it was all a matter of perspective. Fine was being able to breathe most of the time, for her. Not fine would mean she was in agony, praying that her next breath would come. She’d never smoked a day in her life, and yet here she was with lung cancer. God had a sense of humour, all right.

 

“Sure you are,” Claudia said sceptically.

 

“Claudia, I need your help with something,” Myka said, and Claudia looked at her curiously. “I need to find someone.”

 

A day and a half later, she was in London, the supersonic flight only taking a few hours, but she was still exhausted and fighting for every breath. She made her way to the care home where Helena Wells lived – or rather, where her mind was trapped inside the cage that was her body. Claudia asked for William, and they were met shortly after by a male nurse named William Wolcott.

 

“Hi, William,” Myka said, her breath coming in short gasps.  It wouldn’t be long now. They needed to get this done.

 

“Hello, Mrs Martino,” he began, and she shook her head wearily.

 

“I go by Bering, now,” she said, “but you can call me Myka.”

 

“Of course,” he said, nodding. “Myka. So you came to see HG?”

 

“HG Wells? Really?” she said, starting a laugh that quickly turned into a coughing fit. Claudia helped as best she could, adjusting Myka’s oxygen, rubbing her chest and back, but it stopped in its own time, and that was all they could hope for, really. It hurt like someone was digging around in there with something sharp, each cough another blow. It took a few moments for Myka to catch her breath after, and William and Claudia chatted about San Junipero and how wonderful it was. How they’d managed to spend time there, Myka wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t going to ask. Claudia was supposedly some sort of hacker in her off hours, so maybe that’s how she got into their servers.

 

“So, she goes by HG,” Myka said, eventually, and William nodded.

  
“He’s a distant relative, and her parents thought it would be a nice homage to the family’s heritage or whatever,” he said dismissively. His face said all Myka needed to know about Helena’s family.

 

They talked for a little while and William reluctantly agreed to let her see Helena. They went to the room and there she was, a sixty-something woman with wasted limbs and silver hair. Her bone structure was that of a woman who had once been stunningly beautiful, but was now simply striking. She was intubated, machines breathing for her, her eyes closed. Myka couldn’t reconcile this image with the lively, vivacious, incredible woman she’d met in San Junipero.

 

“Let me go in there. Let me talk to her. Please,” she said to William, and he looked at her uncertainly.

 

“Do you know how much trouble I could get into for doing that? For letting anyone have unauthorised time in San Junipero? I could lose my job.”

 

Myka just looked at him, appealing with her eyes, her breath coming in little gasps and wheezes. The poor man had no chance.

 

“Okay,” he said, capitulating almost immediately. “Five minutes, Ms Bering.”

 

It took a few minutes to get everything set up, to put the headsets on her and Helena, but then she was standing on the beach outside Helena’s house, and Helena was there, her hands wrapped around her middle as if she was trying to protect herself. Myka fell to her knees in the sand, looking up at Helena.

 

“I know this is crazy,” Myka said, her face scrunched up in what she hoped was an appealing manner, “but don’t marry William. Marry me, instead. I’ll sign everything so you can pass and you can come here, to San Junipero. You don’t have to stay. You can leave at any time, you know that. But stay until I pass and then… then we’ll see. Please, Helena. All I’m asking for is a chance.”

 

Helena looked at her uncertainly.

 

“How did you… are you in London?”

 

“I am. I’m right next to you, right here. I want to marry you. Please, Helena. Just stay, and we’ll talk. Please.”

 

Helena looked at her again for long moments in silence, chewing on her lip, and Myka could hear William saying “five minutes,” from somewhere distant, but she waited. Helena nodded, and Myka leapt up and kissed her, and then William pulled them out. The marriage ceremony was arranged for the following day, and Myka and Claudia stayed at a local hotel, Myka struggling all night to get her breath.

 

“She’s special, your Helena,” Claudia said, and Myka nodded.

 

“I never met anyone like her. I loved my husband, but he didn’t want this. He always sang that Queen song, you know the one?” Myka attempted to sing a little of the song, and Claudia looked at her sceptically before pulling out her datapad and finding the song, blasting it from the room’s in-built speakers.

 

_Who wants to live forever?_

  
“Great song,” Claudia said, nodding.

 

“Yeah. He loved it. Highlander was his favourite movie,” Myka said, and Claudia nodded. They’d remade that movie so many times that even people Claudia’s age had seen it, although they usually watched it in holo-3D where they could play the main character if they wanted.

 

“He didn’t want to stay here, said forever was too long. He’d made his mark, his children were the future, yadda yadda yadda,” Myka said, gesticulating wildly, and Claudia laughed.

 

“I assume you disagree?”

 

“Not disagree, exactly. It’s just – he got to have all his fun before we met, and I never did anything but marry and have a family. I wanted more adventure, and even though I love my kids, I just… I wanted more. And San Junipero seemed like a second chance. Plus, all the kids are going to come here when they pass, so I figured I might as well wait for them. I didn’t count on meeting someone like Helena,” she finished, and Claudia smiled widely.

 

“You two are like, the cutest. It’s amazing. You go to San J for a trial and fall in love again. How romantic is that?” she said, and Myka couldn’t help but smile with her.

 

Myka went to bed, propped up into an almost-seated position, and she dreamed of full lips and dark eyes. She was getting married tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter. Myka and Helena marry, there are a few unexpected visits, and Helena makes a decision. Thank you once again to Abolynn and Sistersin7 for running this challenge. And thank you all for reading. :)

* * *

 

The next day dawned grey and drizzly. It was London, and that was a normal day, apparently. Myka, used to the endless sunshine of the West Coast, was thrilled, in one way, and not at all in another. Her chest didn’t appreciate the additional strain of the cold weather, but she loved how different everything looked without the sun on it. Some of the buildings looked like they were weeping. London was a modern city, but its roots were ancient, and the older buildings were beautiful.

 

Myka and Claudia headed to the hospital and were greeted by a stately black woman of indeterminate age. Myka would have guessed that the woman was younger than she was, but she had a sort of agelessness, as if she’d stood next to Hypatia in Alexandria. She knew Claudia, that much was clear.

 

“Miss Donovan. So nice to see you again. I’m here to officiate at a wedding, I understand?” the woman asked.

 

“Yes, Mrs F. This is Myka, she’s getting married to the lady we’re about to meet. Myka Bering, meet Mrs Frederic,” Claudia said, and Myka held out her free hand, shaking the woman’s hand as well as she was able, given her waning strength.

 

“Myka Bering,” Mrs Frederic said, looking at Myka so intently that Myka imagined she might have some sort of x-ray vision. Myka swallowed, for some reason deeply nervous all of a sudden.

 

“That’s me,” she said after a moment, trying for chirpy. She shouldn’t have; her attempt at a chirp set off a long coughing fit that ended up with her having to find a bathroom, and quick, before she lost control of her bladder. As it was she was pretty sure she’d cracked a rib, coughing. Old age was no picnic.

 

They reconvened a little while later, and this time Myka just nodded when Mrs Frederic said her name.

 

“Are you sure you want to do this, Myka?” the woman asked, with a look of real concern on her face.

 

“Of course,” Myka said, through her oxygen mask.

 

“Very well,” Mrs Frederic said, after a long look at her. They made their way to Helena’s room, and William was there, reading to her from a book that looked ancient. Most people used some sort of datapad these days, but apparently either William or Helena had old-fashioned tastes.

 

“Miss Bering. And Mrs Frederic. My word, I didn’t realise you were going to be officiating,” William said, standing up suddenly and looking awed. Myka looked from him to Claudia, who looked supremely unimpressed, as usual. Who was this woman?

 

“Let’s get this marriage official, shall we?” Mrs Frederic said crisply, and Myka allowed herself to be led to the chair next to the bed where Helena lay. Their hands were joined and the short ceremony performed, rings placed on their fingers. Then Myka and Helena were given headsets to allow them to enter San Junipero.

 

“Hey,” Myka said, with a smile, as she opened her eyes to bright sun and Helena’s even brighter smile.

 

“Hi,” Helena said breathlessly.

 

“We’re married,” Myka said, and Helena grinned widely.

 

“We are,” she said, and Myka threw herself forward into Helena’s arms. They kissed in the sunshine for long moments, and then it wasn’t clear who was dragging who inside to their bed.

 

“We have 24 hours,” Myka said, after they’d exhausted themselves for a time.

 

“Is that how much time you get for a marriage these days?” Helena asked, one eyebrow raised sardonically.

 

“It is,” Myka shrugged. “It’s better than nothing, I guess. But it won’t be long now until I’m here full time. And you get to stay here, now.”

 

Helena nodded.

 

“I’ll miss you.”

 

“I’ll miss you too. But I don’t have long, really.”

 

They began to touch one another again, Myka astonished once again by the youth of her skin, the strength of her muscles – the ability to breathe easily. It was a long time later when she woke to find Helena standing between the open doors to the outside, letting the wind play with her hair, naked and stunning.

 

“Helena,” Myka said, and Helena turned to look at her. Her eyes were red-rimmed and filled with tears.

 

“Come here,” Myka said, and Helena came to her, allowed herself to be wrapped up in Myka’s arms as she was hit with a storm of weeping.

 

“I promised her, Myka. I told her I would find her, and I haven’t. I’m here with you and I’m so happy and I left her all alone,” Helena said, and Myka kissed her wet eyelids gently.

 

“You can still go, Helena. I’m not stopping you. I want you to stay, but I didn’t marry you to make you stay here. I just want you to try. Sam didn’t want this life, didn’t want to live forever. He was happy, and part of me feels like I’m cheating on him, on his memory, but he’s gone now and he was happy that I was coming here, that I would be here when the kids passed. He loved me and I loved him and I never thought I’d ever love anyone again. And then you came along, and I think he would understand, Helena. Because we’re not built to be alone, not really. If you want to go to be with her, I’ll understand. Just give me a chance. Give us a chance, first,” Myka said, and her smile was gentle. Helena nodded and smiled back, weak and tremulous, but there nonetheless. They kissed and once again were pulled together, making love until the sun rose.

 

“Who is James?” Myka asked, when they had an hour or so left.

 

“He was you, just a week earlier,” Helena said, amused.

 

“What do you mean?” Myka asked, her brows pulling together.

 

“He and I had some fun, for a few days, and then he wouldn’t let it go,” Helena said, and Myka glowered at her.

 

“That’s not the same as this and you know it,” she said, gesturing between them.

 

“I know, darling,” Helena said, with an unrepentant grin. “But it’s so much fun to wind you up.”

 

Myka punched her on the shoulder, gently.

 

“Ow,” Helena said, in mock-annoyance.

 

“You love me,” Myka said, mockingly, and Helena smiled suddenly, genuinely. The kind of smile that could make a person feel like the sun was coming up.

 

“I do,” she said, and something in Myka’s heart twisted, hard. She’d thought she couldn’t fall any harder, but she could, and did.

 

An hour later she was pulled out of a kiss with Helena and into the real world, to her aching chest and failing eyesight and her tired body.

 

“Hey, Mrs Wells. Or did you both go with Bering?” Claudia asked, with a huge grin. Mrs Frederic and William were gone. Myka blinked.

 

“I don’t think we talked about that…” she said, still confused.

 

“No, you didn’t, you dawg!” Claudia said, punching her on the arm lightly.

 

“What?” Myka asked, and Claudia just shook her head.

 

“Never mind. We have to go back soon. Are you ready to let her pass?” Claudia asked, and Myka nodded. Claudia went outside and came back with William and Mrs Frederic. Myka signed several pieces of paperwork (in triplicate) and then William switched off the machines. Myka held Helena’s hand as her pulse ceased. Myka let her own eyes close as she felt Helena slip away into San Junipero for good. She prayed that she was doing the right thing. Helena could leave San Junipero any time she wanted, now.

 

The flight back to the US was interminable. Myka was exhausted and her chest felt as if it was filling with liquid. It wasn’t the first time, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Myka told Claudia when they landed, and was subjected to a number of painful and intrusive tests to drain her chest and let her breathe more easily.

 

“You only have a few days, the docs say,” Claudia said, conversationally.

  
“I know,” Myka said, nodding slightly, too exhausted to even lift her head. She was sitting by the window where there was a beautiful view of trees and bright sunlight. She couldn’t take any of it in. She was so _tired._

 

“I’d like to come see you, after, if that’s okay?” Claudia asked.

 

“Of course. But don’t get yourself in trouble, young lady, okay?” Myka said, still unable to lift her head. Talking was such an effort. But she knew Claudia needed her to talk, to be here, because Myka was going to be leaving her behind, now. Claudia had been with her for nearly two years.  She held her hand out and Claudia took it, sitting with her in silence until it was time for dinner.

 

It was another agonising two weeks before Myka was able to pass. Her kids were with her, around her bed, and Myka had time to kiss her grandkids goodbye and even see old friends like Pete and Amanda and their kids.

 

“You look terrible,” Pete had said, taking in her pallor and her shaking hands.

 

“Thanks,” she said, deadpan.

 

“Don’t listen to him, Myka. He’s just jealous that you get to go to San Junipero before he does,” Amanda said. Her once bright blonde hair was now turned to silver and ash, but she was still an incredibly beautiful woman. She loved Pete to distraction.

 

“I never do,” Myka said, with a laugh that turned into coughing. She passed out in the midst of this coughing fit, something that had been happening more and more frequently. She woke up intubated, and she knew her time was nearly up. Pete and Amanda were gone, and it was just her and Claudia in the room.

 

“You can go whenever you want, you know,” Claudia said, and there were tears in her eyes, her mascara running slightly.

 

Myka nodded. It still took another day, but the drugs dragged her under and she woke up lying flat on her back on the beach, Helena next to her.

 

“Took you long enough,” Helena said, with a smile, as she looked across at Myka.

 

“Says you. I had to wait and let it happen naturally, for the kids, you know?” Myka said, and Helena nodded.

 

“I know, darling. I just missed you. Welcome home,” Helena said, and leaned over to kiss Myka. It was bliss to be able to breathe, to know that her old, broken body was gone and that this one was indestructible and eternally youthful.

 

“Whoever thought this place up was a genius,” Myka said, and Helena smiled.

 

“Whoever thought this place up was _old_ , Myka. Old and dying and thinking about how youth is wasted on the young,” Helena said. Myka nodded. She wasn’t wrong.

 

“Run with me?” Myka said, and Helena looked at her uncertainly.

 

“Come on. It’ll be fun. Wear something like this,” Myka said, changing her clothes with a thought to what she’d worn for running back in her youth, before her body had betrayed her. Helena shrugged and changed, the lycra outfit clinging to her almost indecently. Myka thought about taking it off her right away, but concluded that it would be much more fun after a run. She took off at speed, Helena running in her wake. They made love on the beach and didn’t have to worry about sand getting into their intimate places; one of the many advantages of this world over the real one. They went to farmer’s markets and antique stores and bookstores and found the most incredible, rare things to add to their home. It was paradise, and Myka had never been as happy. Helena was with her and they were in love. It was almost perfect, except for the shadow that she saw pass over Helena’s eyes sometimes when things were quiet.

 

Two days into their life together, Myka had a surprise visitor. Peter Lattimer.

 

“Hey, Mykes,” he said, after she opened the door to find the youthful version of her friend standing there wearing his favourite t-shirt bearing the name of a television show from the early 2000s, Firefly. Myka had watched it but had never really seen the appeal.

 

“Pete? What the hell are you doing here? You’re not…” she trailed off as she realised.

 

“Yup. Heart attack, yesterday. I was asleep, didn’t even wake up. Luckily I was all ready to go and they just uploaded me right away. Amanda’s so mad,” he said, with his usual idiotic grin. Myka stared at him and then pulled him into a hug.

 

“I told you to stop eating so many donuts,” she said, into his shoulder.

 

“What’s the point of life without donuts?” he asked, pulling back, and she had no answer.

 

She invited him in and Helena stood, confused, as this stranger came into their space.

 

“You must be Myka’s main squeeze. I’m Pete, her best friend,” he said, and Helena looked at him sceptically.

 

“Did you just say ‘squeeze’ as if I were a character in some noir novel? Am I to expect to be called a dame next?” she asked, and Pete laughed.

 

“You and I are gonna get on just fine,” he said, pulling Helena into a hug. She was clearly uncomfortable, but returned it as best she could. Myka chuckled and went to make some tea.

 

When Myka left the room, Pete sat down and he and Helena exchanged pleasantries for a moment, before Pete looked at Helena piercingly.

 

“You still don’t know if you should stay,” he said, and she looked back at him, her face blank.

 

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she said, pulling herself up haughtily.

 

“You know, normally I’d agree,” Pete said, chewing on the edge of his thumbnail thoughtfully, “but this is Mykes. She gave up everything in her first life, to be there for Sam, she raised the kids, she was the dutiful little wife. But she’s so smart and beautiful and amazing, she could have done anything she wanted. And now she’s here and she loves you, and I see that you love her too, but that you’re still not sure. So yeah, it wouldn’t normally be my business. But Myka’s always my business,” he said, and his tone was firm and flat. Helena sighed and deflated. She couldn’t hate the man for loving the woman she’d just fallen in love with.

 

“She’s wonderful. I wish I’d met her first, before my husband, before her husband. Maybe we’d have brought up children together. Maybe I wouldn’t have lost my daughter. But that’s not what happened, Mr Lattimer, and things are not always how we want them to be. I never had any intention of coming here, but they press it upon you whether you like it or not, so I determined to enjoy it if I could, until I could get someone to marry me and sign the papers to let me die. And then I met her, and she destroyed all of my plans. My daughter was _everything,_ Mr Lattimer,” she said, and he nodded.

 

“I have three of my own. All grown up to be strong, annoying women who pick on their dad. And I would die for any one of those girls. I know what it is to love a kid.”

 

“Well, if you know, you must understand. She died before San Junipero existed, and so this reality, whatever it is, is out of her reach. She’s out there, in the void somewhere, and I promised her I would follow her.”

 

“I will follow you into the dark, huh?” he said, humming to himself a little. She nodded, a little startled.

 

“That’s it, precisely,” she said.

 

“But what if she’s not there? What if she was reincarnated, and she’s living in San Diego with a dog and a kid of her own? What if she’s in heaven, happy and at peace, and watching you and wondering why, when you have a chance to have a life with someone you love, after living in a hospital, trapped in your own body for forty years, you’re worried about your daughter who’s safe and happy?”

 

She scoffed.

 

“There’s no way you believe that,” she said, and Pete shrugged.

 

“I never really thought about it much, I’ll be honest. Life is difficult enough without worrying too much about what comes after. Cos no-one ever came back, did they, to settle it? Maybe we’re just gone, maybe we just disappear and everything we are or were turns to dust. That makes this place a bit of a miracle, because here we are, having a conversation about life after death while our bodies are literally dust in another reality. Kind of blows your mind, am I right?” he said, and Helena’s mouth dropped open.

 

“You are much more than you seem, Mr Lattimer,” she said, eventually.

 

“You think Myka Bering would have had a best friend for nearly fifty years who was dumb as a box of hair?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, and Helena shrugged, this time.

 

“I suppose I didn’t give it the thought I should,” she allowed.

 

“Tell me about your kid. Christina, right?”

 

Myka returned to find Helena telling Pete about the time Christina had led a student protest against the uniform code that insisted on girls wearing skirts and boys wearing trousers.

 

“She insisted that no-one should be held to the idea of a gender binary, as it had clearly damaged the generations that had come before and would damage more if people let it continue. She wore trousers and her male friends wore skirts, and they were the first school in the UK to allow students to wear skirts or trousers. The headteacher stared her down for about ten minutes at the protest, threatening her with detentions and expulsion, but Christina just stood there, glaring, until the woman backed off. It was magnificent.”

 

Myka handed Pete a plate of cream cakes that Helena favoured, knowing that he would demolish them all, and saved a few for Helena and herself to have with their tea.

 

“Your kid sounds awesome,” Pete mused, as he shovelled food into his mouth, washing it down with coffee doctored just how he liked it.

 

“She was,” Helena said, with a half-smile.

 

“Did she have someone special?” he asked, and Helena grinned.

 

“She had plenty of suitors. I approved of some, and not others. She described herself as pansexual, as was the descriptor people liked at that age, and had boyfriends and girlfriends. She fell in love in her second year at medical school, with a nervous young man called Douglas. He was from Scotland, with the softest accent you can imagine, and he adored her. He was in the cab with her when…”

 

She trailed off, and Myka put her hand on Helena’s knee. To her surprise, Pete leaned over, too, and put his hand on Helena’s arm.

 

“Sounds like a sweet kid. She loved you, I bet.”

 

“She was the sweetest, most generous person I have ever known. I don’t know how such a pure soul could spring from my loins, as it were, but spring she did. She was a miracle.”

 

“Like this place,” Pete said, gesticulating with a chocolate éclair at the beach house and the food, and at them. “We’re all dead. Like, actually dead. And here we are, eating stuff that would goo up our arteries in real life and now we can eat it forever and never get fat or full or uncomfortable. We get to feel love and happiness and everything we normally would and we get to live all over again, but never getting old, never getting sick. It’s a frickin’ miracle,” he said, again, and Helena looked at him thoughtfully before looking away to search out a scone from the plate of treats Myka had saved.

 

“You guys, I better go. I have to choose my new house, and send messages to my family and get ready for when they come. Amanda’s gonna be pleased she doesn’t have to feed me anymore, that’s for sure. I think she was actually starting to get tired of it, if you can believe that,” he said, jumping up suddenly. He gave them both tight hugs, swearing he’d be back soon, and off he went, disappearing before he reached the top of the sand dunes behind the house.

 

“Well. Your friend is an interesting character,” Helena said, and Myka nodded.

 

“You didn’t expect him to be like that, did you?” she asked, with a sly smile. People always underestimated Pete.

 

“No, I certainly did not,” Helena said, and she went off to take the dishes to the kitchen, something that was wholly unnecessary here, but Myka let her be. Clearly she needed time to think.

 

It was a quiet couple of days after that, and when they made love they did so with an intensity that spoke of Myka’s fear that she would lose Helena, and of the depth of Helena’s dilemma.

 

“I love you,” Myka said, after one such session that had lasted hours, neither willing to let the other go.

 

“I love you,” Helena said, and there were tears in her eyes. Myka smiled at her gently and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head before rubbing her back and neck as she cried. She knew that this was Helena’s fight and Helena’s decision, and she had decided she wouldn’t do anything to try to persuade her other than living life with her until she decided otherwise.

 

It was a week or so later, and Claudia had somehow managed to hack her way into San Junipero. They were having dinner, and Pete, too, had joined them. It was one of the most pleasant nights Myka could remember having for a long time. Sure, she loved her family, but this was a social occasion that wasn’t about her family; it was just about Myka and Helena and their friends. They ate and drank and talked and joked and when Claudia and Pete left at the end of the night, singing, arm-in-arm after one too many bottles of wine, Helena went to sit on the porch, looking over the sand at the sea.

 

“Are you okay, honey?” Myka asked, and Helena nodded. Myka sat next to her and saw that tears were streaming down her cheeks.

 

“Is this your idea of okay?” Myka asked, brushing the tears from Helena’s cheeks with her thumbs.

 

“It is, actually,” Helena said, with a laugh that sounded very much like a sob. “I have decided to stay. I’m letting Christina go. Your oaf of a friend is right. I will never know what happened to Christina, and this life here with you is the happiest I have ever been, Myka. I can’t lose this – lose you – for the sake of a concept, a belief that there is life for us after we die and that Christina is waiting for me. This – what we have here – it might be the closest we can come. And if that is so, then I will enjoy it, and if we decide, together, that we have tired of it, then I will walk with you into the unknown, and maybe Christina will be there, and maybe she won’t. But I will have lived, and I think she would be proud of that,” Helena said, her tears still falling.

 

“I love you so much,” Myka said, tears streaming from her eyes, and then they were making love right there on the porch, arching and rising and gasping together, their lives carrying on through a digital signal from another reality.

 

***

“Wow, they’re really going for it, huh?” Claudia said, looking at the screen in front of them that showed Helena and Myka’s consciousness.

 

“Claudia, give them their privacy,” Mrs Frederic chided. She turned off the screen and removed the data sticks, gesturing for Claudia to follow her. They reached the interior of the warehouse in which lived all the residents of San Junipero, digitally and safely stored for a lifetime of happiness (guaranteed). Mrs Frederic handed the data sticks to Claudia, who took them eagerly, placing them almost ceremonially into the wall of databanks.

 

“Now, you’ve seen your first case through to fruition. What are your thoughts?” Mrs Frederic asked, as Claudia fell into step next to her.

 

“It was kind of awesome, and really, really heart-breaking. I thought Helena was going to pull the plug,” Claudia said, and Mrs Frederic nodded.

 

“As did I. But she loves Myka very much,” Mrs Frederic mused, her heels clicking on the immaculate floors.

 

“I got that,” Claudia said. “She gave up her daughter for this. That’s… I mean…”

 

“Love is a strange and wonderful thing,” Mrs Frederic agreed.

 

“I didn’t think I could do this – you know, be a caretaker, like you. But I think I can, now. Now that I’ve seen how happy they are,” Claudia said.

 

“I am glad to hear it, Miss Donovan,” Mrs Frederic said. “To be a caretaker is to realise that each moment of life is a miracle and mystery.”

 

And she clicked away, the young caretaker watching her.

 

“It sure is, Mrs F,” she murmured, before hurrying to catch up with her boss. Miracle and mystery indeed.


End file.
